Finding Grace (5 page)

Dagger felt the apology in the glance Paul gave him,
not that it helped.

“And yes, we’re in security.” He paused and Dagger
watched as his eyes roamed over the tiny, furniture-challenged
dump. “Look, it’s not like you’re living the high life here. We’d
pay you a decent wage.”

“I’m comfortable with the way I live, Mr. Weston.
You’ll have to do better than that.”

Dagger was enjoying the chance to watch Paul work
his negotiating peacemaker magic.

“Okay, what about a state-of-the-art
laboratory?”

“Hmm, security…We might have very different views of
what constitutes state-of-the-art in that context.”

Uh-oh.

“Are you telling me I don’t know my own business?”
Paul stiffened.

“All your communication and surveillance equipment
is off the rack, right?”

“Best on the market.”

It was too hard to see through the dark glasses, but
Dagger was sure Thorne had rolled his eyes. The shrug and gesture
that went with it said, “I rest my case.” Out loud, he just said,
“Tell you what, give me your card and I’ll sleep on it.”

Dagger noticed that while Thorne was showing Paul
more respect than he’d seen the kid display yet, he was still being
a smartass and giving Paul a harder time than many a seasoned
businessman had ever done. Paul looked like he wanted to say
something, but just then Thorne turned to him.

“So, ah, Jack, I haven’t thanked you yet for
inviting me to Captain America’s cellblock celebration. Gotta love
those cages.”

Paul winced, though Dagger couldn’t imagine why. He
was the one who should feel bad. And he did.

But damned if he’d let the little shit dump on him.
“Fuck you, Thorne. You’re the dumbshit who clocked a cop.”

“He deserved it, and more. He never would have had
the chance to…if you hadn’t…” Thorne shrugged again. “Whatever.
Like you care. You’re lucky you’re so cute, Jack.”

What! He was
not
going to let this kid bait
him. Or give him any sign that he might care, even a little. He
said, coolly as he could, “Everyone except Paul’s wife calls me
Dagger.”

“Dagger?” Thorne actually grinned at him. “No, I
don’t think so. You look more like a sweet Georgia peach to me, but
I’ll call you Jack if you’re nice.” Thorne had lowered his rough
voice and was giving Dagger a coy smile.

Dagger shot Thorne a glance known to wither jungles
before moving on to Paul, who was actually laughing, the bastard.
Somehow, Thorne had picked up on the Georgia accent he thought he’d
left behind,
and
he was
flirting
with him, for
chrissake.

Irritating as all of that was, and laced with the
damn guilt too, he wasn’t sure that’s what bothered him about
Thorne. And Thorne definitely bothered him.

Chapter Four

Sleep on it. Yeah, right. Who the hell was I
kidding?

Thorne was running a lot slower than she usually
did, on account of the pain in her left side.

Fucker Griggs.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to distract her from
her thoughts.

Like I was gonna get any sleep with the ghosts of
those hellhounds and their stinking breath down my neck. Gods, and
I thought the nightmares were bad. I didn’t even have to close my
eyes in that cage to bring the shit back. Fucker Jack, he’s the one
that got me into this. Why did I trust him? God, I wish he wasn’t
so…didn’t make me feel all…And then it’s like some crazy woman
takes over my mouth and incredibly stupid shit falls out of it. Now
what the hell am I gonna do? Buy a fucking lunch bucket? Maybe some
lipstick?

She laughed. Out loud. The pain stabbed at her
side.

This is so twisted.

The peaceful little life she’d made for herself was
just plain gone and she was going to have to accept that. People
knew where she was now. There was no going back, was there?
Couldn’t she just rabbit it the hell out of Seattle, find a new
hole? Where the fuck were her visions when she needed them? But
even as she asked the question, she knew the answer.

She wasn’t even really surprised when she stopped
running, bent over with her hands on her knees, and realized that
the address at the bottom of the door she was looking at was
Blackridge’s. She swore anyway.

Thorne pressed the bell without giving herself a
chance to change her mind. She waited, suddenly thankful for the
tinted glasses she no longer needed in order to see. They hid the
dark circles she knew, even without a mirror, were under her eyes.
God, she hated mirrors.

A buzzer sounded and Thorne pushed past the heavy
door. She stared for a minute at the flight of stairs leading to
the second-floor offices fate had drawn her to.

One step at a time, she climbed. Just like knitting.
One stitch at a time, one row at a time. She could get her life
back.

* * * *

Paul’s smile was genuine. “Thorne! I’m glad you
decided—”

“I haven’t. Yet. I just thought I could look around,
get a feel for the place, see if maybe…”

“Sure. Come on in. Sorry, Dagger, would you mind
leaving us?” The look of apology he gave Dagger was just as
genuine. He really detested keeping him in the dark. They always
interviewed prospective hires together.

His partner gave him a piercing look, but nodded and
left the room.

Thorne turned and scanned Dagger’s ass when he
passed her. “Mmm-mm, and what a pleasure it is to watch him
leaving.”

Paul thought she looked shocked by what she’d said.
He sure as hell was. Dagger muttered something and closed the door
behind him.

“So, what can I do or say to influence your
decision?” No point in beating around the bush. She was far too
perceptive. He’d discovered that much yesterday—and not from what
he’d read about her.

Thorne tilted her head. “That’s a good start, Mr.
Weston. No bullshit.”

“Paul’s fine, except in front of clients. Should I
call you Dr. Thorne?”

Her smile was grim. “Just Thorne, please. For all
practical purposes, Dr. Thorne died five years ago. What’s
important to me is that you tell no one what I know Captain America
told you about me. I need your word, Paul.”

“I understand why you wouldn’t want…” He swallowed
through a throat gone dry—“what happened…to be public knowledge,
but I really can’t keep Dagger out of the loop forever. He is a
full partner, you know. Say, how
did
you know?”

She sighed. “You know how I knew about your
arrangement with Jack—the same way I knew trouble was coming to the
ball and what advice to give the lovelorn Captain America.”

He wasn’t going to lie to her. “Is believing you
actually have visions another deal breaker, Thorne?”

“How else can you explain how I knew what I knew?”
She was still standing, her hands on her hips.

“Just because things aren’t common knowledge doesn’t
mean the information isn’t out there. Somehow, you found out.” He
paused, wanting to get back to business and more comfortable
topics. “You certainly have the skills. I want to make this work,
Thorne. But some things you’re just going to have to give me.”

Thorne shrugged back. “Fine, keep your doubts.
They’re not my problem.”

Shit, she was making this hard on him. It had been
bad enough yesterday in her apartment, knowing she was a woman,
what she’d survived and what she’d been through in jail the day
before. Seeing her standing here this morning, so small in her
too-thin, shabby jacket and old, baggy clothes, talking tough with
that broken voice, was shredding his heart.

“Why don’t you sit down?” He got up and pulled a
chair out for her. “You still haven’t explained why I can’t let
Dagger in on the basics. Or at least that you’re a woman.”
Just
give me one goddamn break here
. “He could run interference for
you with the rest of team,” he offered hopefully.

“He stays out of the loop, Paul, because…” She
paused and chewed on her lip. “I don’t ever want him to look at me
the way you look at me. And if he knew I was a woman, he might…”
She toed the dent in the carpet from when he’d moved his desk away
from the window. “No, damn it, I can’t. I just can’t. Besides, I
don’t need anyone to run interference for me.” She straightened and
looked back up at him. “I can take care of myself.”

She was a woman all right, because she wasn’t making
a damn bit of sense. She obviously liked Dagger, so why would she
want him to assume she was a gay man? Paul’s right eye twitched. He
figured it was a muscle spasm due to a night of bad dreams prompted
by Thorne’s file.

“If that’s the way it has to be, Thorne. Judging by
the shiner you gave that cop, you’re not defenseless, anyway. You
do understand that your, uh, appearance and manner are going to
attract some, uh, colorful remarks from these men, right? They’re
not used to working with anyone like you any more than you’re used
to working with anyone like them. But if there’s any real
harassment, I want to know about it right away. It’s imperative to
me that you feel safe here. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Paul. Thank you. Assuming I do end up working
here.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve got a couple of questions and
stipulations myself.” He shifted in his chair. “I’m not sure how to
ask you this, but about those three—”

“Animals. I thought you might ask. And I’m going to
answer because I want you to know that I trust you, Paul.” Her eyes
focused on a lone paperclip. “Look, if I did send them to hell
where they belong—and I’m not saying I did—it wasn’t for revenge.
You have to understand, Paul, how much they enjoyed what they did
to me. They enjoyed it so much that they could never have
not
done it again as soon as they were out, which would have
been in under seven years with good behavior. If another woman fell
into their hands and it had been within my power to stop them…Well,
my life and all my ‘skills,’ as you call them, wouldn’t mean shit.
Just sayin’, is all.”

It was as close to a confession as anyone would ever
get, Paul was sure. He lowered his voice. “I understand killing
from a sense of duty, as a necessity.”

Thorne raised her head. “Yeah, I know. I can smell
death on you, you know. See the shadows. They’re not as many or as
strong as Jack’s, but they’re there.”

Again with the vision shit. But it didn’t really
matter how she knew about his and Dagger’s pasts. She did.

Back to business. She was slippery, he’d give her
that. And that reminded him. “Another thing. I want to make it
clear that there’ll be no going off the reservation while you work
for me. Is that understood, Thorne?”

“I’m not sure. Does that mean you want me to ask you
before I do anything that might be considered outside the lines?
Say, accessing files in certain databases. Or would you prefer
plausible deniability?”

Paul pursed his lips in thought before saying, “The
latter, thank you. It’s important that Blackridge’s reputation
remain squeaky clean. So if you should find it necessary to do some
accessing—” he cleared his throat “—outside the lines, don’t get
caught.”

“I take it, then, that you vet your clients?”

“Of course.”

“I’m sure that I can be more thorough. If you give
me a client list, it will give me a better idea of what I can do
for you, too. Here’s what I would need so far—if we can work things
out.” Thorne pulled a crumpled piece of paper from her pocket and
handed him a neatly-written list with detailed costs.

Paul looked at her and grinned. Thorne grinned back.
“Couldn’t help it. Once I started thinking about it, it just sort
of…I want to make this work, too, Paul. So, uh, what would your
employment terms be? I don’t suppose there’s any way you could pay
me in cash?”

“Sorry, I need everything on the up and up.
Ten-ninety-nines and all.”

“Damn, I figured you would.” Thorne let out a
resigned sigh. “That means I’ll be back on the grid. Oh, and I’m
guessing that your men are independent contractors rather than
employees?”

“That’s right.”

“Well, I need to be an official employee. You’ll
want to patent some of my work. If I’m a contractor, you’d own the
applications and devices, but ownership of the code and the patents
would be much hazier. It’s important to me that Blackridge’s name
is on those papers when you file them, not mine. I want to stay off
that part of grid.”

“But why? I’m guessing there’s some money to be made
there.”

“Yeah.” She shrugged. “What I care about is staying
under the radar of certain people. I’ve experienced some very
heavy-handed recruitment efforts in the past and I don’t ever want
to deal with that again.”

Paul recalled the file he’d read from the DOD. “Yes.
Major Darmfelder. He’s gone on record with some pretty serious
accusations against you. You’ve already addressed one to my
satisfaction, but I’d like to give you an opportunity to defend
yourself on another. Did you really sell military designs to a
foreign government?” He tried to keep his tone even.

“So that’s how Major Shitfield tells it. Why am I
not surprised, with the way he likes to twist reality until it
looks his way?” She sighed. “I was sixteen, Paul, when I sold those
first two patents. I checked the company out. They were even
certified military contractors, for fuck’s sake. How was I to know
they’d be bought out by a foreign interest a year later? Hey, at
least it wasn’t China. And all of the patents I sold after those
remained with U.S. companies. I haven’t sold any since—”

“So what’s your problem with the government, Thorne?
Why did you turn the major down?”

“I turned him down because I’ve always hated
bullies. But, more importantly, if you ask me to do something I’m
not comfortable with, I can tell you to fuck off and walk out the
door. That’s not exactly true with government work, is it?”

“I see your point.” And he did, maybe too well. He’d
never known those he’d killed. That’s how it was for a sniper. Not
like it had been for Dagger. He’d always counted himself lucky for
that. He’d never questioned his CO until
the woman
. That had
been an assassination. He’d felt the truth of it even before he
pulled the trigger. He’d checked into her, discreetly, after. He
didn’t like what he found. Politics. His “cruise” was over a month
later and he hadn’t re-upped.